


I can't take another step

by Laramie



Series: Things you said [16]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Children, Established Relationship, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-25 06:49:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4950691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laramie/pseuds/Laramie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Prompted by both not-your-blogger and flippyspoon. I'm sorry this took me so long, eep.</p><p>It wasn't until the whole glove thing came to me that I really knew what I was doing with this. The glove bit picks up on a thread from <em>It's broken again </em>(but you don't need to read that to read this, it's only a faint connection).</p><p>Also I originally planned to kill John off at the age of 61 but I couldn't bear to leave Anna on her own with a 4-year-old daughter. They need a bit more happiness before he kicks the bucket <strike>but not very much harhar</strike></p>
    </blockquote>





	I can't take another step

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by both not-your-blogger and flippyspoon. I'm sorry this took me so long, eep.
> 
> It wasn't until the whole glove thing came to me that I really knew what I was doing with this. The glove bit picks up on a thread from _It's broken again_ (but you don't need to read that to read this, it's only a faint connection).
> 
> Also I originally planned to kill John off at the age of 61 but I couldn't bear to leave Anna on her own with a 4-year-old daughter. They need a bit more happiness before he kicks the bucket ~~but not very much harhar~~

**May 1932**

Thomas kept the glove that covered his war wound on the coat hooks at the top of the stairs, nestled among the winter coats that protected him from the cold. It was there to remind him to pick it up on his way out, since it had gradually adorned his hand less and less when they were at home but he still wore it to go outside and face other people. Jimmy had borrowed it once, slipping it onto his own hand to touch Thomas one night; but Thomas hadn't liked it. The glove was of the war and the war had no place in their bedroom.

Now, as far as Thomas knew, Jimmy only touched the glove if he was passing it over to Thomas, as he did one Sunday morning just before the Bateses arrived for Jimmy's birthday lunch. Jimmy's actual birthday was on the Tuesday, when their friend Sidney Grant would be coming over for dinner. However, the Bateses did not like to leave their B&B in the evenings, so they had arranged to come over for lunch that Sunday instead.

At midday, just before Anna, John and their 5-year-old daughter Annie were due to arrive, Jimmy brought Thomas's glove upstairs to the second bedroom, where Thomas was ostensibly working on the accounts but, Jimmy discovered, was actually rubbing their cat Tabitha's belly. When Thomas slipped on his glove and followed Jimmy downstairs, Tabitha remained on the desk, washing her face.

The doorbell soon rang, and Jimmy let the Bates family inside. After they had all greeted each other, they split up: John and Jimmy went into the living room, with Annie tugging on Jimmy's hand, while Anna followed Thomas into the kitchen to give him a hand with making the roast dinner.

Once the preparation was done, Thomas and Anna joined the others in the living room. The adults chatted amiably, but little Annie soon got bored of waiting for the beef to roast. Thomas and Jimmy volunteered to take her for a quick walk while Anna and John kept an eye on the dinner and put their feet up.

Accordingly, the three youngest members of their little family went out into the May sunshine together. Annie skipped along with Thomas and Jimmy holding one of her hands each, chattering happily.

"Uncle Tock," she said after a while. "Why's that man got something on his face?"

"What's he got on his face?" Thomas asked, truning to look. He saw a man in his forties wearing an eyepatch that did not quite cover the scars around his left eye. _Shrapnel_ , some part of Thomas noted calmly, even as his lungs forgot how to work.

"The black thing," Annie was saying.

"He must have hurt his eye," Jimmy said, shooting Thomas a worried glance even though Thomas had never told him about Edward, the blinded soldier whom Thomas had met in the war. He must have picked up on Thomas's distress.

Thomas forced a smile to reassure him. "Don't stare, Annie; it's not polite to stare at people."

"Alright," she said cheerfully. "Why does he hide his hurt eye?"

"It's just like when you graze your knee and your mum puts a plaster on it," Jimmy answered. "Only you can't get plasters for eyes, so that's what you wear instead."

"Will his eye get better?"

Jimmy cast a look at Thomas that seemed to be a plea for help.

"What did you learn at church this morning, then?" Thomas asked.

"We read a story about some sons who were naughty - but will the man's eye get better, Tock?"

Thomas hesitated. "I don't know, love." He didn't want to be the one to make the world ugly for her.

"Are you looking forward to your dinner?" Jimmy asked, with a faint note of desperation, and Annie was at last diverted onto thoughts of food and whether the gravy was allowed to go on the roast potatoes (it wasn't).

Thomas tuned them out for a moment, looking down at his own gloved hand. Why did the man hide his hurt eye? Maybe for vanity, maybe to avoid distressing people, but just as likely there was some medical reason. Keeping the socket clean to prevent infection, or to stop a faulty eye interfering with the vision through the other, normal eye.

Why did Thomas hide his hand? There was no medical reason - the wound had long since closed up and healed over. It was not enough to distress people any more, at least not among working-class folk in a city that had seen its fair share of war wounds. And surely it was not vanity - he had let Jimmy see it, and no one's opinion mattered more to him than Jimmy's. Jimmy had been unfazed; he had kissed the back of Thomas's hand as though he was a maiden, then placed it somewhere a maiden would not have dared to touch.

So why the glove?

Thomas flexed his fingers. Now that he was conscious of the glove, he noticed, not for the first time, that it felt a little uncomfortable over the knuckles, and was pressing the skin between his two smallest fingers. "Sick of _this,_ " he muttered, waving his hand briefly to indicate what he meant.

Jimmy leaned in close and said very quietly: "I could always hold your hand to keep it covered up."

Thomas smiled at the notion, and as Jimmy stood up straight again Annie spoke.

"Uncle Jimmy, do you and Tock go on dates?"

"Do - What - Why are you asking that?" Jimmy stammered.

"Mum and dad do sometimes but I don't know if all married people do."

"Jimmy and I aren't married, love."

"Of course you're married," Annie said indignantly, with all the surety of a stubborn five-year-old. "Mum said people get married because they love each other too much to be apart, like you and Jimmy."

Jimmy pressed one hand against his forehead, but he was smiling.

"You mustn't tell people that," Thomas said. "Some people wouldn't like it very much, and would be unkind to us if they thought we were like that, alright?"

"Alright," she said lightly. "Where do butterflies come from?"

Thomas began to think that his poor heart wouldn't survive any more stressful questions. Thankfully, they continued to speak on trivial topics - with Annie getting quieter as she began to grow tired - until she suddenly stopped dead on the pavement, folded her arms and said firmly: "I can't take another step."

Thomas and Jimmy looked at each other, lost. "Not even if I buy you an ice cream at the end of the street?" Jimmy suggested hopefully.

"No."

The two men looked at each other again. "Well _I'm_ not carrying her," Jimmy said.

Thomas sighed. "Fine," he said, turning his back to Annie. "Hop up."

Jimmy helped her jump up and Annie clung on tight as they resumed walking.

"Thank you," Annie whispered into Thomas's ear, the side of her face pressed against his.

"Let's get you home to mum and dad," Thomas said.

"Dinner must be nearly ready by now," Jimmy said, licking his lips in anticipation.

They strolled on, with Thomas holding Annie's thighs to keep her secure, until they arrived at the flat. Once through the door at the bottom, Thomas span Annie round and carried her up the stairs at a run, making "zoom!" noises like an aeroplane as she giggled, and Jimmy jogged after them. By the time they reached the landing, all three of them were laughing. The house smelled of beef and roast potatoes, rich and heavy in the air.

Thomas set Annie down. She and Jimmy went on into the living room, Jimmy ruffling her hair. Thomas paused by the coathooks, listening to the voices drifting through from the next room: Anna greeting her daughter cheerfully and John thanking Jimmy for taking her out. Thomas looked down at his left hand and pursed his lips.

When he went to join them in the living room, the glove was left hanging on a hook among the winter coats.

Thomas looked down at his family arrayed across the sofas and smiled.


End file.
